


Plot I thru III

by thebasement_archivist



Category: Millennium (TV), The X-Files
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 10:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11334219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Skinner faces the end of a long-term relationship. XF/Millennium crossover.





	Plot I thru III

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Plot I: Good-bye by Little Eva

From   
Thu Dec 26 18:06:10 1996  
WARNING: This story involves explicit sex between two people of the same sex. If that offends you, DON'T READ THIS! And don't read this if you are under 18!  
DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Millennium worlds belong to Chris Carter & Co., 10-13 Productions and FOX TN. I'm borrowing them without permission and no copyright infringement is indented. I'm not making money off this and rightfully so.  
And don't distribute this without the author's permission  
All comments sent to 

* * *

****************************************************  
Plot I: Good-bye  
by "LittleEva"  
10/31/96  
***************************************************

AD Walter Skinner opened his front door and frowned at the man standing outside. His facial muscles did not betray his surprise, nor his contempt. They stood there, staring at each other for awhile. Finally, the man outside spoke.

"May I come in?" Frank Black said.

Walter threw open the door but said nothing. Frank entered the house and Walter closed the door behind him.

"I was making some coffee," Walter said.

Frank Black noticed that Walter was dressed in black sweat pants, and a black sweat shirt, he knew the man had just come in from a run, he always had coffee after he ran. Frank just nodded and followed Walter into the kitchen, a large and sunny room filled with brand new furnishings, a lot of chrome; it was kind of strange that such an old house had a brand new kitchen, it almost didn't seem right. The house was quiet, the only sounds were the occasional creaking of the foundation and the heartbeats of the two men.

Walter poured himself some coffee then poured a cup for Frank, the way he liked it, just a spot of milk and no sugar. Frank took it, and sat at the counter.

"Thank you," he said. He sipped the coffee and gave himself a half smile. Walter always knew how to make a good cup of coffee. "How are things going?"

Walter stood three chairs away from Frank, at the counter. "You know. Sharon and I are going through with the divorce."

"I'd heard that, I wasn't sure."

Walter cleared his throat. "How's Catherine?"

"Fine. She's fine, Jordan's fine."

"They're excited about the move?" Walter said roughly.

Frank stared at him. "Walter, look. I'm sorry you had to find out from others. I was going to tell you myself..."

"Were you? I thought you were just going to leave."

"That's not my style Walter."

"I didn't think that quitting was your style either."

Frank sighed. "You know why I quit, Walter."

"Because of that nut sending you Polaroids of Catherine? Shit Frank, we'll catch him."

Frank shook his head. Walter studied him. "That's not the real reason you quit," he said accusingly. "Goddamn Polaroids. You're not the first special agent to get stalked by some psycho, and it's probably not a psycho at all, probably just someone trying to spook you. You and I both know why you're leaving."

"Walter, it's not because of you...us..."

"Bullshit Frank."

"It doesn't have anything to do with you Walt. When it was just Catherine it was alright, I told myself that it was different with you, but now I have a kid, I don't want to raise her around secrets."

"Everybody has secrets Frank. I never told Sharon about us. Did you tell Catherine?"

Frank sighed deeply. "No."

"You're leaving Frank, because you want to run away from who you are. I know the feeling, I was shocked when I realized I found *both* men and women attractive, but I've accepted it. You haven't." Walter turned away and walked to the chrome sink. He poured the remainder of his coffee down the drain, pushed his glasses up a fraction and rubbed his eyes.

Frank Black put his cup down. He got out of the chair and stood next to Walter. "It's not easy for me, leaving you," he whispered softly, "you know how I feel."

Walter grasped the sink, Frank's husky whisper was starting to turn him on, and he didn't want to give him that satisfaction. Walter turned his face to look at him, Frank ran his hand down Walter's cheek, then traced his lips with a finger, Walter opened his mouth slightly, drawing Frank's finger inside, he sucked on the other man's finger furiously, pulling him into an embrace. Frank removed his finger, grasped Walter's face with both hands and kissed him. Their first kiss was slow, easy, but they escalated the intensity, as their passion mounted. Frank grabbed Walter's hips and pulled him close, their erections met and rubbed against each other. Frank pushed Walter against the wall, grinding his hips into him. Walter sighed and let himself be swept away by the passion.

In Walter Skinner's relationships, with both men and women, he was the one who was always in control, he made the decision, he set the pace, that was before Frank Black came along. Though their pursuit of one another was mutual, it was Frank who made the first move sexually, and it was always Frank who set the pace. Walter had never let another dominate him in his life, but he'd wanted Frank so much that he didn't care that first time. Frank was gentle, he'd never hurt him, Walter trusted him and he learned that submission meant he didn't have to run the show all the times, he could relax and let someone else take charge.

Their rhythm had grown more frantic as they gripped each other's hips, moaning loudly, driving towards release. Walter felt orgasm approach, he gasped and pushed Frank away from him with all the strength he was able to muster. Frank, sweating and panting, stared at him, stunned.

"I need a shower," was all Walter could say.

Frank nodded, understanding. Without a word, the two men left the kitchen and went up to the second floor, where the master bedroom and bathroom were located.

The bedroom was very large, and old fashioned, with a king sized four poster bed, a hundred year old mahogany desk and dresser. The carpet was dark green, as were the curtains that Walter now closed. The two men removed their clothes. Walter folded his up neatly and placed them on the bed, while Frank let his drop on the floor. Walter smiled and wondered if Catherine minded cleaning up after him, he never did.

When both men were naked, Frank drew Walter in for an embrace, their erections rubbed hungrily against each other, as their hands explored the swell of each other's muscles. They kissed hungrily, Frank starting to lead Walter to the bed, but he managed to shake his head again.

"Shower first, remember?"

Frank removed Walter's glasses and rubbed the top of his head. "Mr. Clean," he smiled.

Walter's bathroom too was modern, very large with white and black tiles on both the walls and the floors, the towels were deep, dark, masculine colors. The shower itself was immense, with room for more than two people. Walter knew that from experience, but that was before he met Frank. The nozzle was turned to massage and the hot water stroked and caressed the two men's bodies. Frank slowly began to stroke Walter's erection, then reached back and massaged his scrotum, slowly, carefully, almost torturing the other man. Walter groaned loudly and backed against the wall, throwing his head back and closing his eyes tightly.

"Walter," Frank whispered.

Walter could only gasp and move his hips. He wanted Frank to go faster, but Frank wouldn't have any of it, and he continued to stroke Walter, carefully, slowly. Walter tried to grasp Frank's erection, but he moved around so it was out of Walter's reach.

"Oh...God Frank...." Walter moaned, straining for release.

"What...what do you want me to do..."

"Please....I want you inside me....please..."

After a few seconds, Frank nodded. "Alright," he whispered. He turned Walter around so he faced the wall. Walter placed his palms on the tiles, to brace himself. With the hot water acting as a lubricant, Frank entered Walter, Walter moved his hips backward, to try and get more of him.

"Patience, patience," Frank said.

With agonizing slowness, Frank moved completely inside Walter, the other man grunted his approval. Then, Frank reached around Walter and grabbed his penis with his right hand, while the other hand grasped the shower railing. Gradually, Frank moved in and out of Walter, stroking his penis in the same rhythm. Walter closed his eyes and moved his hips, trying to force the man to go faster. Walter's urgency turned Frank on, and he increased his rhythm slightly, increasing his hand job on Walter as well.

"Oh...Frank...Oh...God...Frank...it feels fucking great...." Walter moaned.

Frank shut his eyes tightly. Talking during sex was his weakness and Walter knew it. He moved faster inside the other man, now wrapping his left arm around Walter's waist as Walter's firm buttocks slapped against his skin. The shower was filled with steam and the hot water pulsated on them and Frank pumped vigorously into Walter's anus which was beginning to contract. Frank felt Walter's testicles tighten and knew he was almost there. Walter moaned loudly as orgasm was in his reach, he grabbed the shower railing and closed his eyes tightly as madness approached and he came and sprayed into Frank's hand as the other man milked him dry. The sensation of the hot release into Frank's hand coupled with Walter's anus contracting madly at the moment of climax sent Frank over the edge himself. "Walter! Oh God Walter!" Frank cried as he came inside Walter's body. Walter turned around quickly, so quickly that some of Frank's release sprayed on his stomach, Frank smiled and pulled Walter into a kiss as the hot water and steam enveloped them.

A half hour later, both men stood, fully dressed, back in the kitchen. Walter looked away as Frank stared at him. Reality was now apparent once again.

"I can't make you change your mind," Walter said.

Frank just shook his head.

"Even if I found that Polaroid guy," Walter said.

"Walter, I don't know. Catherine and I are from Seattle, it's a wonderful place to raise a child."

"No secrets."

Frank nodded.

Walter allowed himself one quick look at Frank, but knew if he lingered too much, he'd run the risk of being too emotional.

"I better go," Frank said.

Walter looked at the floor. Frank came over to him, as if looking for one last kiss, but Walter shook his head. "Go," he said.

Frank cleared his throat, and nodded. "I'll let myself out," he said.

Walter Skinner continued staring down, at the floor, and didn't look up again until he heard the front door slam and Frank Black's car drive away. Then, Walter rubbed his eyes again and made himself another cup of coffee.

THE END  
LittleEva  
10/31/96

 

* * *

 

From: Thu Dec 26 18:07:05 1996  
Subj: Perceptions Part 1  
Date: 96-12-23 22:41:59 EST  
From: LittleEva1  
DISCLAIMER: The worlds of the X Files and Millennium belong to Chris Carter & Co., 10-13 Productions and FOX TV. I'm borrowing them without permission and no copyright infringement is indented. I'm not making money off this and rightfully so.  
And don't distribute this without the author's permission  
All comments sent to   
This story takes place about six weeks after "Dead Letters"

* * *

Plot II: Perceptions  
by Little Eva

Frank Black leaned back in the comfortable, well worn chair and looked around the cluttered, tiny office. The last office had been larger, but even though there was quite a bit of clutter, there was a sense of calm to the place; calm that he hoped was present in the man this time. 

The receptionist told him that Mr. Horn was teaching a class and would be back soon. Teaching, Frank never imagined that James Horn would go into teaching and at the University of Seattle of all places, right in Frank's back yard. Well, teaching was a lot less stressful than tracking down serial killers, hopefully James wouldn't go ballistic on one of his students, the way he'd gone on the "dead letter" killer. 

Frank shuddered remembering that case, where he first met James Horn. It was like looking into a mirror. James was just where Frank had been a year ago, angry, defensive, nearly insane. It pained Frank to see the man that way, so much so, that when James did beat the serial killer to a bloody pulp, Frank could not stand to look into James' eyes. He was afraid that he'd see his own face there; Frank had worked hard to get himself away from that state, he silently thanked God for Catherine, if it wasn't for her, he never would have made it. 

But James didn't have a Catherine. His wife, Hilary wasn't accepting of James' career. She was one of those women who married a man, knowing the profession he was in, and then spent every minute of every day trying to change him. She'd even tried to use their son TC to get James to change careers. Well, Hilary must be happy now, she'd gotten what she wanted. Frank's eyes looked over at James' desk, to a photograph of James and TC. 

At that moment, Frank sensed that someone was outside the door. He rose, just as James Horn walked in. Frank looked at him and was silently glad that he was still clean shaven, the beard made him look old, without it Frank could see James' handsome features in detail, the glint in his blue eyes. 

James was stunned to see Frank in his office. He never thought he'd see the man again, since his chances of joining the Millennium group were dashed. 

"Frank, what are you doing here?" James almost smiled, but didn't quite make it.

Frank put out his hand. "Nice to see you James."

James took it firmly and shook it. "Don't tell me you're interested in taking my course?"

Frank shook his head. "Abnormal psychology and serial killers? No thank you. Too close to home."

James put the books he was carrying, down on his desk. "How's Catherine, and Jordan?"

"They're both fine. How's Hilary and TC?"

At the mention of his son, James' face lit up. "TC's fine. Hilary...she and I are getting a divorce."

Frank wasn't surprised. "I'm sorry."

James shrugged. "Sit down. Nothing to be sorry about, just one of those things." 

Frank sat back down. James sat at his desk. "So, what do you think?"

"It's nice. I'm glad you're here..I'd wondered...after that killer..."

James leaned forward and Frank realized just how handsome the man was. "You thought I went psycho or something?"

"No James...I just kept wondering what happened to you...and then when I heard you were teaching, in Seattle...I just had to see for myself."

James looked into Frank's eyes and felt that the older man wasn't telling the entire truth. Frank could see that James was doubtful. 

"So, you see," said James.

"Yeah...I do."

James leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "How come I don't believe you?"

Frank cursed himself for being so obvious. He should have known better. James didn't have his gift, but he was observant. He could tell that James was interested, but nervous as well. 

"You don't believe that I wanted to see you?"

"No, I don't believe that you wanted to see me *just* because you wanted to see that I was okay."

Frank shrugged. "Believe what you want."

James stared at Frank for a moment, then gave him a smile. "When I first met you, you just sat there and stared at me, I thought you were profiling me. Now I know that's not what you were doing."

The smile was the signal. Frank looked at the photograph of James and his son. "You have a good looking boy, takes after his father."

James' face suddenly grew serious. He looked down at his hands, when he looked up, Frank was still stareing at him. "I...I'm not in a good place right now Frank...the divorce...going through the custody thing..." James put his elbow on the table, rested his chin in his hand and looked off to the side. "It really hurt me when Hilary said she wanted a divorce...that she couldn't take living with me anymore. I haven't been hurt like that since..." James rubbed his eyes and ran his hand through his short, silver hair. 

"James," Frank said sympatheticly.

James shook his head. "When I was in college, undergrad, there was this guy, Alex, he was in grad school for psych. He was tall, dark and handsome, Italian or something..." He shook his head as if he were trying to shake away the memory. "I fell head over heels in love. I never felt anything like that in my life...but Alex didn't feel the same way...we went together, practically lived together for six months, then he left me for a professor in another school. Didn't even have the guts to tell me to my face; came back from class one day, found a note; Jim, move your shit out." He chuckled sadly, Frank's hands balled into fists, thinking about the insensitive beast that hurt this man. He imagined what James must have looked like then, probably blonde, lithe, sensitive.

"The one good thing that Alex did for me was get me interested in psychology," James finally said. He looked at Frank and caught his sympathetic stare. For a moment their eyes locked, Frank saw that James was uncomfortable, and he looked away. 

"I don't want to get hurt like that again, Frank," James said.

"I don't hurt people, James." Frank looked at his watch and stood up. "It's late. Why don't I buy you dinner." 

James looked at Frank, nervously. 

"Come on James, I'm hungry, I'm sure you are too. Just dinner, okay?"

James rose, inhaled deeply and then nodded. "Okay."

***************************************

James Horn stood across the street from the Department of Justice building, in downtown Seattle. It wasn't cold outside, but cool enough to require a jacket. James had his hands in his jacket pockets as he stood, looking up at where he knew Frank Black was. It had been three weeks since their dinner "date" and for those three weeks, James Horn hadn't been able to get Frank Black out of his mind.

James knew Frank was working a case; someone was killing young women with blonde hair and severing their heads. When James read about the killings, in the newspaper, he knew it was the kind of case the Millennium group, and Frank Black would be working on. He called Frank this morning and nearly hung up the telephone when Catherine answered; but he said who he was and asked for Frank. Catherine was very nice, she asked how he and TC were. When Frank got to the phone, James didn't bother with preliminaries. 

"I read about the blonde killer," James said, referring to the name the newspapers gave the suspect.

"Yeah," Frank said curtly.

"Guess it's your kind of case."

"Yeah," Frank said again. James wondered if Catherine was in the room. Then he spoke again. "I'm going downtown to look at some of the evidence today."

James sighed. He wasn't sure if that was an invitation, but he cleared his throat. "Sure."

So, now, James Horn stood across the street from the old, gray building, waiting for Frank to come out and had absolutely no idea what would happen when the man finally did emerge.

James must have stood there for two hours before Frank appeared. Instantly, his eyes darted across the street, spotting James. Frank rushed across the street, dodging traffic, and stopped in front of the younger man.

"I'll follow you," Frank said.

James just nodded and entered his black jeep. He looked through his rear view mirror, as Frank got into his red one. James sighed as he started the car and slowly pulled out into the street. His palms were sweating and his breathing ragged in anticipation. But he put on some classical music and calmed down as he drove, it wouldn't be good to either get a speeding ticket or get killed.

The drive took only fifteen minutes, but it was the longest fifteen minutes of James's life. He parked the car in front of his building. Frank parked three cars behind him. James stopped in front of his building, waiting for Frank to catch up. Frank looked the place over and nodded.

"Nice."

The building was nearly eighty years old and it had once been a mansion, but it had been restored ten years ago and now sported co-op apartments, all with high ceilings and parquet floors. 

"It is nice," James said.

"Lead the way," Frank gave him a half smile that nearly made James loose his breath. James lived on the fourth floor of the five story building. He pressed for the elevator, but Frank shook his head. 

"Walking's good excercise," he said.

"Yeah," James just nodded and led Frank up the four flights. He was suprised that when he reached his apartment door, neither one of them was out of breath. James knew he was in good shape and guessed that Frank was too, even though he'd been out of the FBI for a while. 

James opened the door to his apartment that faced the south, so the sun was shining through the vestibule. Frank walked in, then James closed the door. Before James could say anything, Frank pushed him roughly against the wall and kissed him passionately on the mouth. Though startled, James slowly opened his mouth and began to caress Frank's tongue. Frank's hands explored James's slim, sturdy build, the muscles in his arms, his back. James put his arms around Frank's neck, pulling him closer. Their respective erections, pressing through their pants, rubbed slowly against each other's and soon James's hips began to involuntarily thrust, bumping against Frank's erection.

Jesus, Frank thought, this guy's going to come right here. He pushed himself away from James, bringing a groan of disapproval from the younger man. Frank was breathless from the kiss and from James' body; he hadn't realized the man was so solid and compact. James frowned, and wondered if Frank was going to leave or something, but when Frank smiled, he knew he would not.

"I'm not going anywhere James."

"Bedroom's down the hall," James responded.

Frank nodded as James led the way. He turned on the light inside the room, since the dark brown curtains were shut. The bedroom was very dark, very masculine. There was a king sized bed, with a dark brown spread, the curtains matched the spread, a mahogany bookcase covered one wall, the bookcase covered with books, three easy chairs graced the room as well. There was a desk, probably oak, in the corner, on the desk was a computer, and many books and papers. A professor's room, Frank thought. 

James went to the night table and opened a drawer, he shyly pulled out some condoms and lubricant. 

"Always good to be prepared," Frank said as James blushed.

Frank said nothing else, but started to undress. James figured that was a cue to do the same, and both men undressed in silence. Frank folded his clothes, neatly, placing them on a chair, while James placed his on another chair, not as neatly though. Then, when they were naked, they turned to each other. James looked down as if ashamed of something. Frank looked at him and had to stop his eyes from widdening; the man was quite well endowed. It was a good thing he was the dominant one.

Frank walked over to James and took his hands. Then he pulled the man into an embrace, again their mouths found each other with the same intensity as before, and again James began to rub himself against Frank's hard penis, practically climbing into his arms. Frank grunted, time for lesson one. He moved his mouth from James's and pushed the younger man onto the bed. James's breathing was ragged and he was beginning to sweat. 

"Easy James, take it easy," Frank whispered.

Frank's soft voice, only made James harder and he groaned loudly. Then Frank pushed James onto his back and gently massaged his chest. He leaned over and kissed one nipple, gently at first, then with more vigor, until he was suckling it roughly. James cried out, wanting the torture to end, pressing his swollen penis against Frank's thigh. Frank moved to the other side and started working on the other nipple, easily caressing at first, then suckling. James arched his back and tried to pull Frank's head down, to kiss him, but Frank smiled and shook his head. 

"I like to take things slow," he said.

James just sighed and shut his eyes very tightly as Frank's tongue began to move past James's nipples, down to his stomach and belly button.

"Frank...oh God...Frank..." James groaned.

Frank's journey continued slowly, easily, his tongue moving lower, then, his hand touched James's testicles, nearly causing the man to scream. Frank continued to caress his testicles while his tongue reached its destination. Frank's tongue slowly caressed James's penis, his entire length, stopping at the head and licking some of the precum juice that was there. Instantly, James started to thrust his hips upward, he tried to pull Frank's head down, James was stronger, but Frank was quicker. He moved his head back, to where James's hands couldn't reach. Frank slowly took James's entire length into his mouth, until it pressed against the back of his throat, Frank relaxed his throat so he wouldn't gag. Then, his mouth and tongue began to move in a gentle rhythm, up and down James's penis, while his hand continued to stroke his testicles. 

"Frank....Oh...please....harder...." James pleaded, as he grabbed the bedspread with both hands. 

Frank responded by blowing on James's penis, before he continued with the slow rhythm, causing James to cry out, as if in pain. 

Gradually, Frank began to increase the rhythm, as James thrust into his mouth, careful not to thrust took quickly, lest Frank would stop. He was a fast learner, Frank thought. Frank rewarded him by sucking more forcefully, occasionally allowing his teeth to gently trace across James's penis. James groaned as his hips bucked wildly. Frank could see his testicles tighten and knew the man was close. Then, he gently released James's penis, sat up and stared at the younger man's face that was now baithed in agony.

"Frank...." he whimpered.

Frank didn't speak. He simply reached for the condom and the jelly. "Turn over," he said gently, but firmly.

James grunted, but turned on his stomach. Frank squeezed some lubricant on his fingers and gently probed James's rectum. The man was tight, but Frank wasn't exceptionally large, so he wasn't worried about hurting him. Then, Frank rolled the condom onto his swollen erection. Strange, while he was sucking James, Frank hadn't realized just how hard he was. 

Frank positioned himself on top of James, bracing himself on his arms, he gently sank into the younger man. James gasped in a combination of agony and estacy as Frank's length sunk into him. James felt Frank's testicles on his behind and wriggled his backside so he could feel them more. Slowly, Frank began to thrust into James, the man's tightness was turning him on, making him harder and he grunted loudly, but he fought for control of his slow, steady thrusts. 

Suddenly, he noticed that James was moving from side to side, Frank realized that he was rubbing his penis against the bedspread, desperately trying to gain release. This was unacceptable to Frank, so he stopped moving. It took a few seconds for James to become aware of what was happening. He stopped moving as well, then looked over his shoulder at Frank. 

"James, that's not fair," he said.

"Shit," James whispered, and put his head down on the bed, he grabbed the bedspread with his hands, but stopped moving. Frank smiled and resumed the rhythm. "I haven't been fair to you, have I?" Frank whispered in James's ear. He reached underneath him until he found his swollen erection. James's head went up in response.

"Please...please..." he moaned, his breathing ragged.

"Of course James," Frank said. He stroked James's penis, in time to his own thrusts into James's body. James took the inititive pumped furiously into Frank's hand, as Frank found himself thrusting more forcefully into James, though he hadn't wanted to. James's hands clutched the bedspread to tightly, that Frank was certain he'd rip it to shreads with just his bare hands. 

Within seconds, their rhythm became desperate, furious, vicious. Frank was thrusting uncontrollably, his vision was blurred, he wasn't even aware that his hand was pumping James in a wild, frenzied manner. Release was the only thing on his mind, control did not exist as they raged on towards estacy.

Then, suddenly, James cried out, screamed, Frank began to feel the warm flood of his release, when just as suddenly, the muscles in James's backside began to contract, pulsate against Frank's penis, at first gripping and clenching, then violently stroking. Frank heard someone cry out and realized it was him as he felt insanity envelope him and he came, shuddering, trembling, gasping for air, until finally it was all too much and he collappsed on top of James.

When Frank finally regained himself, he was on his side, facing James's back, with his arms tightly around him. He couldn't remember getting into this position, in fact, he coudn't remember anything after comming. Frank wondered how much time had passed.

Frank placed a kiss on James's neck. "James..." he whispered. He didn't know what to say. He'd never had an experience like that before, never felt so out of control or so... fulfilled. Frank felt like singing an aria from Don Giovanni or something like that, or running a marathon. 

James moved away and sat up, his back still to Frank. Frank frowned, afraid he'd done something wrong. 

"James?" he said.

"It's late Frank. You have to get home, to Catherine." 

Frank looked at the clock, his eyes widdened. He'd completely lost all track of time. 

"Yeah, you're right," he said.

Frank started to dress, he looked at James and saw that the man's back was still to him. He wanted to go to him, tell him something, but he didn't, he couldn't; he'd always been the dominant one, the others wanted to talk to *him* when it was over. 

James pulled his knees to his chest. He didn't dare look at Frank, for fear that his heart would break or his temper would get the best of him. Frank Black had a wife and a daughter, how the hell could James have been so stupid? He'd set himself up yet again. This was nothing more than a back street affair to Frank. James reminded himself that *he'd* just suggested that Frank go home to Catherine, not the other way around. Well, he had to, Frank was a married man, and he loved Catherine and that was it. James never should have called him this morning, never should have waited for him....

When Frank was dressed, he turned to look at James. 

"James...I..."

"Go home Frank."

Frank sighed deeply. "James...I....I...." find the words Frank, find them! "I...I want to see you...again..."

Another morning tryst, or maybe a weekend when Catherine and Jordan were out of town? James just nodded. "Yeah."

Frank focused on James's back. "This isn't a one night stand, not for me."

James said nothing. Frank didn't know what to do, he looked at James's back and looked at the clock and realized it was quite late. He sighed loudly in frustration.

"I'll let myself out," was all Frank could muster. James just nodded slightly.

As soon as Frank Black had closed James Horn's apartment door, he groaned and leaned against the wall. Frank closed his eyes as images of he and James making love danced inside his brain, he tried to will them away, but they wouldn't disappear. 

"Goddamn," Frank said to himself.

Frank Black walked down the stairs and sighed as the cold air hit him. He walked to his car and stopped just before getting in. He looked up, to the fourth floor, James's floor, looked at windows, until he saw the brown curtains, James's bedroom. Still looking up, Frank tried to unlock his car door, but couldn't, he looked down and realized that his hands were shaking. He held his right wrist with his left hand and, after two tries unlocked the car. Frank got into his car, slammed the door and leaned his head back against the rest.

"What the hell have I done?" Frank whispered. 

***************************************

Frank Black picked up the telephone in his basement study, and quietly put it back in its cradle. It was the umpteenth time he'd done that this hour and he still hadn't managed to dial *his* number.

At first, it was easy, Frank told himself it was all about work, the blonde killer. He needed James's expertise as a profiler, so he'd phoned him, two days after their first sexual encounter. 

"James, it's Frank Black."

"Hello Frank," James's voice sounded cold, dispassionate. 

Frank was thrown off by the tone. "Um...James, I'm having some trouble with this blonde killer, and I think I need your help."

"My help?"

"Yeah. Maybe you could come to the house, we could work together."

Silence. Then James cleared his throat. "I can't imagine why you need my help Frank. You're a hell of a lot better than I am."

Now it was Frank's turn to clear his throat. "I just would like a different opinion."

Silence again. "I'm sorry Frank, I can't. You of all people know what that work did to me."

Frank shut his eyes tightly. "You won't be alone James."

"No Frank, I can't. I've got things to do, I'll be spending the week with TC, while Hilary's out of town."

"Oh, really. That sounds nice," Frank knew the disappointment in his voice was evident. 

"Thanks for considering me Frank, goodbye." And James had hung up the telephone without another word.

A few days later, Frank tried again, this time asking James to come to the police station, believeing James might feel safer there, but the younger man gave the same answer, he didn't want to profile anymore cases, that part of his life was behind him. He thanked Frank for considering him, but said he couldn't. 

After that, Frank stopped trying to convince himself it was all about work. He thought about James constantly, even in his dreams. Frank knew the man was avoiding him because he felt used, cheap. Frank was married, had a family and had already told James that he'd never leave Catherine. Though Frank still felt that way, he also knew that there had to be a way that James Horn could co-exist with Catherine in his life. 

Frank surprised himself with that thought. Though he'd had relationships with men in the past, it never reached the level of any type of love or affection. Those relationships were about domination and control. Frank was always the one in charge, he called the shots, he said when the relatiohship was finished. This was different, Frank was completely out of control, he couldn't put a cap on his feelings for James and realized he felt the same way about the man that he'd felt for Catherine when he first met her. 

So, now Frank sat in the basement, hand on telephone. How many times was he going to do it tonight? He'd sat down for hours last night, doing and thinking the same things, until Catherine came downstairs and asked him if he was alright. He'd told her yes, and then come to bed, but James Horn still danced in his head, even after he'd closed his eyes. 

Frank picked up the receiver once more. He looked at the clock, it was eleven thirty. Too late? Maybe he should call tomorrow. To hell with this, Frank thought, it was now or never. He punched James's number and held his breath. Maybe the answering machine would come on, maybe someone else would answer the phone, a woman? Another man?

"Hello," it was James's husky voice. 

"James, it's Frank Black."

James sighed. "Hello Frank."

Frank could tell by the tone that James wasn't too happy hearing from him. "Don't worry James, I'm not going to try and convince you to profile another case."

"Heard you got the blonde killer. Congratulations."

"Thanks. How are you James? Hope I didn't wake you up."

Another sigh. "I'm fine Frank, you didn't wake me up, I was just doing some reading."

"Yeah," Frank felt so nervous and out of control. Maybe he should just hang up right now. He cleared his throat instead. "James, there's something I need to talk to you about. Not work. I'd like to see you if that's possible."

Seated at his desk in his bedroom, James rubbed his eyes. He'd wondered when Frank would get to the point. James was silent a minute, keep Frank off balance.

"James?" Frank said.

"Yeah Frank, I heard you. Sure, it's possible. Doing anything Wednesday?"

That was two days away. "No, not that I know of."

"You can come in the morning, about ten. We'll go and get something to eat."

Something to eat? Was that supposed to be a joke, Frank wondered. He closed his eyes and realized his penis was slowly hardening. 

"Okay, I'll see you then," Frank said. 

"Good." With that, James hung up the telephone. He rested his chin in his hand and sighed. Then, slowly, his lips curled up into a shy smile.

Frank told Catherine that he was going to see James Horn, that James needed his help in writing a paper. Catherine gave Frank one of her understanding smiles and said how nice it was that he was helping James out.

"He's a good man, Catherine," Frank told her.

Frank drove slowly to James's apartment, even though his heart was racing and his palms sweating. The closest parking space was three blocks away from James's apartment, it would have to do. Frank locked the car and nearly ran the three blocks. When James buzzed him from downstairs, Frank took the stairs, hoping it would quiet his growing erection, it did no such thing. By the time Frank stood in front of James's front door, he was rock hard.

James let him into the apartment. His pale face was dispassionate. As soon as the door closed Frank pulled James into his arms and kissed him. At first, James didn't respond, he didn't push Frank away, he just didn't respond. Jesus, Frank thought, what the hell is wrong with the man? He pulled back and gently touched James's face, he stroked his cheek with the back of his hand. 

"James, I told you this isn't a one night stand for me, I meant it."

Again Frank pulled James into his arms, but this time, James slowly responded, kissing him back, rubbing himself against Frank's healthy erection. Frank's hands moved to James' hips, he pushed the younger man against him and within seconds, he got a response, James began to harden. Frank smiled, remembering the size of the man and kissed him with more force.

James drew back and took Frank's hands. "I think we better take this party in the bedroom."

Frank was almost breathless. "Yeah," was all he could get out, as he stared at James and never realized just how handsome the man was, no, handsome wasn't the word, James was something else, he was beautiful.

This time, Frank wasn't so neat about folding his clothes. He was tearing them off, as they seemed to strangle him, bind him, keep him from what he wanted. James pulled him close and slowly ran his tongue, lips and teeth across the newly exposed flesh. Frank groaned out loud, hoping he wouldn't come right there and quickly unbuttoned James's shirt, nearly ripping two of the buttons in the process. Frank pulled James onto the bed and kissed the man's lips, cheeks, nose, chin. 

"Oh..God James...why the hell did you make me wait..." Frank's hand reached down and felt James's buldging erection through his jeans. He smiled, his vision blurred with lust, then turned away from James, to get the condoms and lubricant, that he knew was in the night table. As soon as his back was to James, he heard a metallic sound and felt something grab his wrist. When Frank looked up, he saw that a handcuff was around his left wrist and he was being shackled to one of the posts of the brass headboard. 

"James...what the...." Frank said as the cuff went around the bedpost.

But James had grabbed Frank's other wrist and was attempting to shackle that one. 

"James...what the fuck..." Frank tried to struggle, but James was stronger, and he easily shackled Frank's right wrist to the bedpost. Frank looked up at his bound wrists, then he looked over his shoulder at James, who was standing, arms folded across his bare chest, smiling. 

"That's exactly right Frank. You've been wanting this for two weeks, well now you're going to get it." James started to slowly undress. 

Understanding hit Frank between the eyes. He pulled at the restraints but it was no use. He'd played this little game before, with Walter a lot, but then *he* was always the one doing the cuffing. This had never happened to Frank before. He watched James as he took off his boxers and freed his very well endowed erection. James was going to put that in him, Frank realized; his first emotion was terror, but as he watched James look at him, that terror became excitement, as his erection swelled underneath him. 

When James was finally naked, he poured some lubricant on his hand and slowly massaged Frank's buttocks. Frank squirmed, the man must have warmed the stuff up or something, it felt soothing against his skin. James poured the lubricant on his fingers and probed Frank's anus with one finger, then two.

"Virgin, huh?" James said.

Frank responded by pulling at the cuffs. James smiled and shook his head. He leaned over and whispered softly into Frank's ear. "No Frank, that won't do you any good, you'll just cut your wrists, and then you'll have to explain that to Catherine. Just lie still, you can't do anything else." His voice was soothing, silky, and it aroused Frank even more. 

James continued preparing Frank, who could only groan at the combined feelings of pain, fear and arousal and frustration. He turned his head around and looked at James. 

"For God's sake James..."

"What Frank, what do you want me to do?"

Frank closed his eyes tightly. "I want you James...I want you inside me....now..."

"Well, I don't think you're in any position to demand anything." With that, James slapped Frank's bare buttocks, first one cheek then the other. Frank squirmed on the bed, he put his head down to supress a scream of frustration.

When James felt Frank was ready, he slid on the condom, then braced himself on his forearms. Frank turned his head, sensing what was going to happen. James raggedly pushed himself into Frank. Frank's eyes shut tight as the man roughly entered him. He remembered doing this to Walter, my God, was this what it felt like?

"How do you like this, Frank?" James grunted as he had completely entered the older man. Frank felt James's testicles against his buttocks and knew he was all the way in. The sensations of pain and pleasure mixed together and Frank gasped. Then James began to push himself in and out of Frank's body in a slow, but angry rhythm. He reached underneath Frank and roughly grabbed the man's penis, stroking it unevenly.

As James thrust in and out of Frank, he opened his eyes and with his free hand, touched the man's back and realized just how smooth it was. He rubbed his testicles against Frank's buttocks, which was quite firm for a man his age. James looked at his lover's body underneath him as if he was seeing it for the first time, he noticed every curve, every line and thought that every part of him was truly beautiful.

Suddenly James was pumping wildly he knew he was close to orgasm, he didn't want it to end yet. Underneath him, Frank groaned in anger and frustration, every time he was close to comming, James's hand would change the rhythm, keeping the older man off balance. James took Frank's erection in hand and slid his hand up and down the length of it, now in time to James's thrusts into Frank. Frank bucked his hips and slammed himself down into James's hand. "Oh....God...." Frank cried, "I'm going to...."

James felt the madness approaching and he wrapped his free hand around Frank's chest, pulling him up, as close at the restraints would allow. Frank gasped, cried out James's name over and over again as his seed exploded into his lover's hand. James came before Frank's buttock muscles pulled and caressed at his penis, the extra sensations milking James completely as he came and came , until he lay, spent, exhausted on top of Frank.

James opened his eyes and felt Frank breathing hard underneath him, both men were baithed in each other's and their own sweat. James crawled to the night table, grabbed the key and with shaking hands, unlocked the cuffs. When Frank was free, James pulled him into an embrace, kissing his damp face.

"I'm sorry...Jesus...I'm sorry Frank...." he nearly sobbed. 

Frank put his arms around James. "It's alright," he managed to say. Jesus, the man had cuffed him to the bed, nearly tore him apart, and now he was telling him he was alright? What the hell was going on?

James lay on his back, he stared upward at the ceiling. "I felt so fucking cheap, like some goddamn back street affair."

Frank just shook his head. James wasn't a back street affair two weeks ago, and certainly not now. Frank couldn't name all the feelings that were inside him at this moment. 

"You're no back street affair James...You know, I told Catherine that I was going to meet with you."

James raised himself on one elbow and looked at Frank, who was lying on his back. "You did what?"

"I told her you needed my help writing a paper."

That remark caused a chuckle to come from James's mouth. "Some paper, huh?"

Frank smiled, then he realized the name of one of the feelings inside him, it was love.

***************************************

There had already been three murders. 

In the past three months, there had been three similar killings, one in California, two in Washington state. The victims were all young boys, around ten years old. They had all been abduced early in the mornings, off their bycycles, always on a Saturday. The killer raped, then strangled the boys; after death, he cut off their genitals with a carving knife, stuffed them in the boy's mouths, then left their bodies and their bicycles in open fields, where they were always found. 

After the third murder, the FBI was called in, as well as the Millennium group. Frank Black was working on the case, trying to get a handle on what kind of monster would do such things to children, it made him hug Jordan tighter when he put her to bed at night. 

Frank asked James Horn if he wouldn't mind helping him with a profile on the killer, not really expecting James to agree, since *he* had a son. To Frank's surprise though, James did agree. 

"It'll be nice working with you," James said enthusiastically.

"It'll be work James, not a honeymoon."

James just laughed. "It's always a honeymoon with you Frank."

The man wasn't joking. Frank and James enjoyed each other's company tremenoudsly, they could talk for hours, without even touching each other. When they did touch each other, it was always a new experience, Frank and James always found new pleasure centers in each other's bodies. To Frank, it was like going to a sort of erotic school.

Catherine liked James too and Jordan enjoyed playing with TC. Some weekends, when James had TC, they'd spend weekends at Frank's house. Jordan and TC enjoyed playing together. James was glad of that, though sometimes it was difficult being so close to James, without grabbing him and kissing him passionately. Frank though made it clear that in his home, he was Catherine's husband. Once, Catherine took Jordan and TC out for ice cream, leaving Frank and James alone; it was one of the hardest things Frank had to do, not to get lost in James's beautiful blue/green eyes.

"I understand Frank," James smiled sadly.

At the end of the weekend, Frank went with James to take TC back to his mother, who was now living in Washington, with her sister, he explained to Catherine that James often got depressed when his visits with TC were over. 

"I can imagine," Catherine said.

After taking TC back to Hilary, Frank and James drove to James's apartment. As soon as the front door shut behind them, they quickly ripped off each other's clothes and barely made it to the sofa before exploding in estasy together. 

Frank, Catherine and Jordan were in the dining room, having dinner, when the telephone rang. Catherine rose and answered it, Frank couldn't hear her voice, he'd cut some string beans for Jordan, she made a face and shook her head. 

Catherine came back into the room and looked quite amused at her daughter. "Frank, it's Walter Skinner."

At the mention of Walter Skinner's name Frank's first reaction was to stiffen. He hadn't even heard the man's name in months. He slowly stood, glad his knees didn't buckle beneath him. Frank walked into the kitchen and put the receiver to his ear.

"Yeah," he said.

"Frank."

"Walter," Frank said. He tried to smile but felt uncomfortable. Why? Walter had never made him feel that way before. "Where are you?" Frank asked, even though he knew the answer. 

"I'm here in your Washington. Officially I'm here to surpervise the Open Field investigation...but it was really an excuse...to see you."

The Open Field case was the name the press gave the murders. "That's nice Walter."

Walter Skinner cleared his throat. There was something strange about Frank's voice. Maybe Catherine was close by. "We should get together. I'm staying at the Sheraton. Maybe we could get together for a drink or something..."

The "or something" was gnawing at the pit of Frank's stomach. He knew just what that meant. But, he cleared his throat and became the dominant partner.

"We'll see. Tomorrow, at six thirty?"

"Sounds good to me," Walter was always so accomodating; James might not be so eagar, or if he was, *he'd* suggest the date. 

"I'll see you then, bye."

"Bye," Walter said, and was stunned that Frank hung up the telephone so quickly.

Frank had to smile when he saw Walter Skinner in the hotel lobby. It was so like Walter to be in a shirt, tie and jacket, even when he was off duty. Frank was dressed in his usual, khaki jacket, slacks and white shirt. Frank was also surprised that the sight of Walter Skinner did not immediately arouse him. Six months ago, even a phone call go make Frank hard as a rock. He instinctively knew that Walter was quite erect now.

The two men shook hands. Walter tried to prolong the handshake, but Frank drew his back. "Let's go have that drink," he said.

Walter frowned, but nodded. 

The two men sat at a table by the window that faced downtown Seattle. Frank ordered a beer, Walter a scotch and soda. 

"You and your beer," Walter said affectionately.

"Can't tear me away from it."

Walter could sense that something was wrong, Frank was never this uncomfortable. Then it dawned on him, it was the case. Children were being killed, Frank had a child. How could Walter have been so blind, he had only been involved with the man for five years. 

"This is some case, isn't it?" Walter said.

The waitress brought them their drinks. Frank looked up at Walter and nodded. He tried to formulate the words from his brain to his mouth, but could not articulate them.

"The killer is destroying something in himself when he kills these boys. He's not concerned with who they are at all." Frank sipped his beer and looked away.

Walter looked at Frank. He seemed cool, professional. It wasn't the murders that were bothering him. Walter searched his mind for something that could be wrong, and when he'd found it, sighed.

"There's someone else," he said simply, "another man." It was a statement, not a question.

Frank nodded. "I was going to tell you...he's someone here."

"I figured that," Walter's baritone was tight, curt. Frank saw his face fighting for control. "Didn't waste any time, guess those five years didn't mean anything."

Frank frowned. He took his index finger and ran it along Walter's knuckles. "That's not true Walter. I wasn't looking for anything. We said our goodbyes, Walter; you know I don't do long distance relationships."

Walter watched Frank's finger trace his knuckles, he grew even harder than he had been earlier, but couldn't bring himself to draw his hand away. 

"I know," Walter finally said. He downed the rest of the drink. "I hope you can find this killer, Frank." 

"We'll find him, Walter."

Walter closed his eyes, when Frank said his name, the familiar shiver went down his spine. He quickly opened his eyes and drew his hand away to signal the waitress. When she came over, he asked her for the check.

"I'll take it Walter," Frank said.

But Walter shook his head. "No Frank, I asked you here, I don't want you feeling sorry for me."

"I am sorry, Walter."

Walter said nothing. He flipped through his wallet and took out a twenty dollar bill. When the waitress came over he gave it to her. "Keep the change," he said.

The woman's face brightened. "Thank you, sir," she said.

Walter looked into Frank's eyes, then looked away. "It'll be good working with you again, Frank."

Frank looked at Walter and remembered working with the man, he remembered the good times they'd shared. Those thoughts disappeared as Frank saw James's face in his mind, and felt himself getting hard. 

They rose, looked at each other nervously, then shook hands. 

"See you at work, Frank," Walter said, turning around and leaving, before Frank had a chance to respond.

***************************************

The detective's lounge in the Seattle police station, acted as makeshift ward room for the FBI agents, and Washington and Oregon detectives assigned to the Open Field case. Frank Black and Walter Skinner sat at a table with agents and detectives, as they looked over autopsy reports, photographs, accounts of people who found the bodies, histories of the victims. Walter was telling the agents who should do what with whom; Frank couldn't get the image of a blue car following a boy of a bycycle out of his mind. 

James Horn walked into the smoke filled lounge and immediately noticed the look on Frank's face, an intensity, he had seen only once before, when they worked on the "Dead Letter" case. Walter saw the look as well. 

The thought disappeared and Frank looked up and saw James stareing at him. For a second, their eyes met and they said nothing, then Frank waved him over. 

Walter looked at the silver haired man as Frank rose. "James Horn, this is AD Walter Skinner."

"An AD huh?" James said as he looked the man over. Shirt and tie, balding, glasses, completely conservative and most likely uptight. James shook Walter's hand. 

"I'm just here to supervise," said Walter.

"James has worked with the police in Portland, we worked together on a case down there."

"But now, I'm happily retired. I teach Abnormal Psychology & Serial Killers."

"Cheery," Walter said.

The men sat back down and continued looking at the photographs and reports. 

"You okay James?" Frank said, watching James's face. 

"Yeah. If it's too much for me, I'll leave."

"Okay."

As they worked, Walter Skinner suddenly looked up. He wasn't certain but he swore that Frank's demeanor changed as soon as this James Horn walked into the room. Frank's eyes were brighter, his face more relaxed. Every now and then Frank looked at James, as if to check to see if he was alright. James responded by looking at Frank, and nodding. Walter's face tightened as his eyes returned to the photographs. Walter wasn't blind, he recognized the signs of affection, though hidden. So, this was the new bitch, huh? Frank said they worked together, guess that's where it started, Walter thought. He looked over at the man, Horn looked younger than he, had all his hair, odd, but handsome features, alright, he wasn't bad looking, but still, *he* hadn't been with Frank for five years, he didn't know Frank's fears, maybe didn't even know about his breakdown. 

James kept noticing that the Assistant Director kept looking at Frank, as if he was probing him for something. He put his hand on Frank's back a few times, it didn't register a response from Frank, and Walter Skinner seemed to be upset by that. Then, Skinner turned his eyes on James, nearly glaring at him. James was taken aback, he wondered if Skinner knew about his breakdown in Portland. Then, he noticed the AD look at Frank, then at him, then back at Frank. James sucked in a deep breath as understanding dawned. So, this was the man Frank had been with for five years in Washington. James allowed himself a better look, he had broad shoulders, strong hands and wasn't bad looking even with his balding head. James wanted to chuckle, an AD huh? He wondered if he was Frank's boss, but he didn't think so, Frank wasn't the type who'd sleep his way to the top.

The men worked for hours. Frank rubbed his eyes, as he could no longer see himself inside the killer's head. 

James looked at his watch. "Shit, I got to go. Got to take TC to a birthday party."

Frank looked at Walter. "His son."

Walter nodded sadly, realizing another common thread the two men had. Frank looked at Walter's face and put his hand on the man's shoulder. James observed this and cleared his throat. 

"I got to go. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Monday," Walter said. Today was Saturday. 

"Monday," James said. His eyes met Frank's. Frank immediately saw that he was hurt. Shit, he thought. 

"I'll call you," Frank said.

"Sure." With that, James left. 

Walter was surprised, but not upset that Frank said he'd come back to his hotel, to have a drink he said. Frank followed him in his jeep and Walter kept checking his rear view mirror, just to make sure he was still there. Maybe the new man wasn't all he was cracked up to be, maybe seeing them together made Frank see things differently. 

When they entered the hotel room, Walter closed the door behind them and sighed. "Beer right?" he said.

"Yeah." 

While Walter made the drinks, Frank looked around the room and wondered what the hell he was doing here. He sighed, he knew why. He owed Walter, the man had been there for him during his breakdown, they had been together for five years, he deserved more than to be thrown out like an old shoe, he deserved one more chance. 

Walter handed him his beer, and Frank looked into Walter's hazel eyes. There was another reason he was here, there was no way he could be certain of his feelings for James unless he was certain his relationship with Walter was over. 

The two men sat across from each other, and drank their drinks, Walter had his usual scotch. 

"I hope we catch this bastard before he kills again," Walter said.

"I hope so too Walter."

Walter sensed that Frank was uneasy. "So, Frank, you like it out here?"

"Yeah, well, you know I'm from this area Walter, it's nice being home again."

Walter sipped his drink and smiled. "I don't think I could get used to it. I guess I've been in DC too long."

"Yeah," Frank smiled, "with all that power."

Walter laughed, kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie. "It's good seeing you Frank."

Frank looked at the man and smiled, admiring the broad shoulders, the strong back. He put down his drink, went over to Walter, leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth. Walter submissively bowed his head, as Frank kissed his neck and rubbed his hand along his muscular back. 

Walter stood and allowed Frank to pull him into a full embrace, he opened his mouth and Frank sucked on his tongue; immediately both men became fully erect, and they rubbed their arousals against each other. Walter pulled his mouth away and gasped. Frank roughly undid Walter's tie and unbuttoned his shirt, nearly tearing it from his body. Walter's trembling hands couldn't undo any of Frank's clothes, so Frank had to do that for himself. 

When both men were naked Frank grabbed Walter's broad shoulders and pulled him in for another full embrace. Without clothes now, the sensations, muscular arms, tight buttocks and legs, along with completely full arousals, were all heightened, so much so that Walter was afraid he'd come right then and there. He pushed himself away from Frank and climbed into bed. He reached for a small bag and got out a tube of lubricant and a condom, then positioned himself on his hands and knees. Walter was panting. 

"Jesus Frank...I'm going to explode if you don't get over here..."

Frank sighed and got on the bed. "Walter, this isn't what I want." 

Walter's eyes widened. "What?"

Frank put his hand on a bare shoulder. "I want you to make love to me, I want you to do me."

Walter sat on his heels. "But...Frank....I...we..."

"I know. I want you inside me, Walter..." He leaned over, kissed the man's earlobe and neck. "I want you now...Walter...don't worry, I'll guide you through it..."

Walter looked unsure, but nodded anyway. "Yeah...I'll do it."

An hour later, Frank and Walter lay side by side, neither sure of what to say. Frank didn't want to say anything that might make Walter more ashamed, and Walter didn't want to sound any more foolish than he felt. Walter shouldn't have...Frank shouldn't have wanted him to....

Walter had been fine, lubricating Frank, then his own penis, was fine when he put on the condom, but his trouble began when he entered his long time lover. He didn't hurt Frank, he was able to enter him fully, but four strokes later, he found himself thrusting and thrashing uncontrolably and climaxed hard. It wasn't until Walter recovered himself, that he realized Frank was still erect, Walter managed to masturbate Frank until he came, but he knew that act wasn't something Frank liked. 

"Frank," Walter finally said, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright Walter, don't be sorry." Frank meant that. It wasn't Walter's fault. Frank shouldn't have asked him, Walter was uncomfortable. Frank had no right to ask Walter to be....like James.

As Frank lay beside Walter, he found James popping into his mind again and again. Though James knew him for far less time than Walter did, James knew the inner depths of Frank's soul, a lot better than Walter. Once, the only thing that turned Frank on was the feeling of dominating another man, but now he wanted something more, a partnership, equal partnership, love. Frank couldn't love someone who wasn't an equal behind closed doors. 

"I guess I'm not like him, am I?" Walter said. Of course he wasn't, James was handsome, had all his hair, and was younger. 

"Who?"

Walter sat up. "Come on Frank, don't play with me. Shit! James Horn. I'm in the FBI Frank, I'm not stupid."

Frank wasn't surprised that Walter could figure it out. "So, why're you here Frank? A quick fuck for old time's sake?"

"No, Walter." Frank rose and started dressing. Walter watched him and felt quite vunerable, naked in bed, alone. He too rose and dressed. 

"Then, why?" Walter said, angrily pulling up his pants. 

"Because I believe that you deserve more than just goodbye, I've found someone else. I had to be sure..."

"That you love...him."

"Sure of my feelings."

"And?"

Frank walked close to Walter, then gently tied his tie. "Walter, those five years we spent together were wonderful, they'll always mean the world to me, you'll always mean the world to me..."

"But that was then, this is now and your needs have changed," Walter's voice was sarcastic, "am I close?"

"Walter, I'm sorry." 

Walter put on his glasses. "I guess challenging James Horn to a duel is out of the question."

Frank just shook his head and met his former lover's eyes. 

"I love you Frank. I know you don't believe that, but I do love you." Walter gently touched Frank's cheek.

"I believe it, Walter."

***************************************

On Sunday morning, Frank took Catherine and Jordan to the farmer's market. When they got back home, he told Catherine he was going to the police station, to work on the case. 

"No one'll be around, I'll be able to get more work done that way."

Catherine smiled and kissed Frank on the cheek. "Catch him, Frank."

"I will."

Frank went to the police station, looked at some autopsy photographs, but could not concentrate. He put the files away and left the building, knowing just where he had to go.

Frank knew he was taking a chance, going to James's apartment. The man could be out with his son, anywhere, it was Sunday. Frank didn't care. All he knew was that he had to see James.

Farnk held his breath as he pressed James's buzzer, then exhaled as he was buzzed inside. He ran up the stairs to the fourth floor, James's door opened before Frank had a chance to ring the bell. 

Frank carefully stepped inside the apartment and found himself staring at James, who stood in the middle of the living room. He was barefoot, wearing jeans and a tee shirt. 

"Wow, you have one hell of a guilty look on your face Frank." James's expression wasn't angry, he looked quite calm.

Frank looked at the floor. "I was with Walter Skinner last night." He could not believe he just blurted that out, like it was nothing. 

James folded his arms across his chest. "I thought so. So, he's the one you were with for five years?"

Frank just nodded.

For awhile, they stood, just eyeing each other, finally James nodded slightly and came over to Frank. "You know something Frank, I was worried about Catherine, competing with her for you. But now I see that's not going to be my problem. My problem's going to be other men. Frank, do you have any idea how sexy you are?"

Frank fought the urge to blush, but didn't make it. He couldn't believe that James, who looked like Michaelangelo's David in jeans, was telling *him* he was sexy. 

"James...you don't have to worry about Walter anymore...that's why I'm here..."

James quickly took Frank in his arms and kissed him fiercely. Frank opened his mouth, receiving the kiss, desperately sucking on James's tongue. Frank felt himself begin to harden and felt James harden as well. James dragged Frank's jacket from his body, throwing it onto a chair, he quickly unbuttoned Frank's shirt, throwing it too to the floor, and started to gently suck the older man's nipples. Frank rubbed his body against James's, the friction, causing James to suck even harder. Frank managed to get James's tee shirt over his head and started to unbutton his jeans. 

James raised his head. "Easy Frank," he said, only half convincingly. 

"No," Frank breathed, "I want you."

James smiled, and unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped Frank's pants. Frank tore them and his boxers off his body, then toed off his shoes. Desire got the better of Frank as he pulled James's jeans and boxers off in one swift motion, causing James to smile. 

Their bodies freed of their confines, James pushed Frank against the wall, giving him one passionate kiss after another. Their frantic hands massaged, rubbed, kneaded each other's bodies, feeling each line, each muscle, each contour. 

Finally Frank, mad with longing and desire, turned around in James's arms, so his back was to him. "I want you inside me...here...now James..." his voice was low, his breathing ragged. 

James leaned over and, with his tongue, caressed Frank's inner ear and earlobe. "Just a second," he said and he was gone.

"James..." Frank groaned. Damnit he was in agony. Maybe James was getting a condom, shit, couldn't he see just how much he wanted him?

It was the longest second in Frank's life, but James did return. "This'll make both of us feel good," his deep voice crooned. 

Suddenly Frank felt the oil on his back, it was deliciously warm, and smelled like a pine forest. Frank gasped as James's oiled hands moved with agonizing slowness to his lower back and then to his buttocks. He nearly cried out as James rubbed the oil around his rectum. 

"Almost there Frank," James rubbed a tiny bit of the oil on his rigid penis. Frank opened his legs and braced himself against the wall. James braced himself against the wall with one hand, the other hand moved around Frank, to his belly and lower. He gently pulled Frank towards him and then entered him, gently, carefully. Frank grunted and pushed back against James, feeling the full testicles as the younger man was all the way inside. James began to thrust rather quickly inside Frank, though Frank could tell the man was trying to pace himself. James took his right hand and encircled Frank's penis, sliding up and down, in time to this thrusts. 

Frank was panting and sweating, and impaitently pushing against James. "Yes...yes...James...oh...God...harder...oh God...James...I'm yours...I love you..."

Frank's movements caused James to pump harder and much faster inside Frank, his hand too kept the same tempo. 

James felt the madness approaching, though he would have liked to slow down, he could not stop the frenzied pace if his life depended on it. He took his hand from the wall and wrapped that arm around Frank's waist, Frank continued to push against James, keeping the pace himself, as he thrust his hips harder and faster against James's hand. Then Frank threw his head back.

"Oh...God...James!" he cried as he exploded into James's hand. 

Frank's buttock muscles roughly contracted, stroking James's penis vigorously, causing James to shudder. James gave a gutteral moan as he came, still milking Frank who came all over James's hand, dripping onto the carpet. It seemed to go on forever, until both men were spent and they collapsed on top of each other, on the thick carpet. 

When Frank could again see clearly, he rolled James onto his back and kissed his mouth, his cheeks, his eye lids, his nose. James weakly put his arms around his friend's neck and gave him a satisfied smile. 

"I've never...it's never..." was all Frank could get out.

They lay there on the carpet, arms around each other, perfectly and completely relaxed. Then, Frank sat up and reached for the bottle of oil that now sat on the coffee table. James put his hands behind his head. 

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Frank just smiled. He put some of the oil on his hands and began to massage James's chest, his fingers kneading his stomach muscles. James groaned, as it did feel quite good, he grabbed the bottle from Frank and performed the same act on Frank. 

Soon both men were rubbing and massaging oil on each other's chests, shoulders, backs, buttocks, and before long, both men became quite hard. Frank pushed James down on his back and got on top of him, their erections rubbing in a back and forth motion. James gripped Frank's buttocks, wanting him to go faster, but Frank held his ground and set the pace. The rhythm was a calm back and forth motion at first, then slowly, the pace would increase, but just before their movements begame too frenzied, Frank would slow down again, causing James to moan in frustration. 

Frank kept the man off balance, until he couldn't stand it anymore himself. The tempo quickened, both men gripping each other's buttocks, raging towards release. Then, they climaxed together, crying out each other's names, their semen mingling together. When both men regained their senses again. They looked at each other and smiled. 

Frank and James took a shower together, too exhausted to do anything but wash and rinse off their bodies, then after toweling off, retired to James's king sized bed. Where Frank pulled his lover in an embrace. 

"James," he whispered. "You know I love Catherine, but I will never have with her, what I have with you." 

James looked at Frank and realized what the man just said. He just smiled and touched Frank's face.

"You don't have to worry about Walter Skinner or anyone James...This isn't a backstreet affair James...I love you."

James smiled and rubbed his eyes as tears were about to come. "I love you too Frank."

***************************************

One Month Later - Washington DC

Walter Skinner sat in his office, looking but not looking at the file on the "Open Field" murders. The killer, who had been caught a month ago, was a laid off school teacher, who himself had been abducted and raped as a boy. Walter had looked at that folder over and over for the past week, looking for Frank Black's name, even though he knew it would not be in an official FBI report. The phrase "local consultants" was the closest mention to Frank.

Walter rubbed his eyes. Shit, he had to snap out of it. It was a month ago, Frank was across the country, in love with another man and there was no changing that fact.

Outisde Walter's office, Special Agent Fox Mulder raised his hand to knock on the door. 

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Agent Mulder," Margie, Skinner's secretary said.

"What, knocking?" Fox half smiled.

The woman frowned. "The Assistant Director has been in a rotten mood for weeks. I'm surprised you haven't noticed it."

Fox nodded. "I've noticed." Then he smiled at Margie. "Guess I won't knock then." With that, Fox entered the Assistant Director's office, softly closing the door behind him.

Walter looked up. He dropped the file in his desk. "Mulder, what do you want now?"

Fox locked the door behind him and sauntered over to his boss's desk. Walter frowned as Fox placed his palms on the desk, then leaned over so their faces were nearly touching.

"I was wondering when you'd realize that Frank Black's no good for you." Fox then planted a light kiss on Walter's lips.

Walter jerked away, his body went rigid. Visions of his career and reputation in ruins danced inside his head. 

"What...what the hell are you talking about Mulder..." he managed to say.

Fox shook his head. "Don't worry Sir, your secret's quite safe. No one else knows. The only reason I know is because I've been watching you for a long time, because I love you."

Walter rose involuntarily. Fox came over to him, put his arms around him and kissed him fully on the mouth. This time, instead of pushing him away, Walter received the kiss warmly, as his mind did sommersaults. Fox was in love with him, HIM, older, bald, Walter S. Skinner. The kiss finished, but Walter continued to hold the younger man in his arms. Jesus, Walter thought, this feels GOOD. He never thought of Fox Mulder that way...or had he? As Walter began to think of his time in Seattle, a realization dawned; the reason he wasn't able to perform with Frank had nothing to do with Frank, it had to do with him, Walter Skinner. Frank Black might have changed, but so had he. 

Walter ran his hands through Fox's hair and sighed. "What are you doing tonight Age...Fox?"

Fox looked at Walter, then winked, "Nothing."

Walter pulled the man into an embrace once again. "Good, very good." He smiled and as he let out a satisfied sigh, thought that he could get used to this very easily.

THE END

Little Eva 11/25/96

 

* * *

 

From Mon Dec 30 16:39:22 1996  
Here's the "long awaited" Plot 3 - "Mulder & Skinner's relationship is tested...can you say Alex Krycek?"  
It's 4 parts, hope you get them all before the year's over (you never know with AOL)  
Subj: Plot III: The Ties That Bind  
Date: 96-12-30 17:32:02 EST  
From:   
WARNING: This story involves explicit sex between people of the SAME SEX. If that offends you, DON'T READ THIS! And don't read this if you are under 18 or else you will go blind and grow hair on your palms! Also there are some spoilers for both Tunguska and Terma here so watch out!  
DISCLAIMER: The worlds of the X Files and Millennium belong to Chris Carter & Co., 10-13 Productions and FOX TV. I'm borrowing them without permission and no copyright infringement is indented. I'm not making money off this and rightfully so.  
And don't distribute this without the author's permission  
Thanks again to Ms. M for all her help  
All comments sent to 

* * *

***********************************************************  
Plot III: The Ties That Bind  
by Little Eva  
***********************************************************

Walter Skinner was having a wonderful dream. He felt the most fantastic sensation, that was so familiar. He groaned and realized he was awake and the sensation was continuing. Slowly, Skinner opened his eyes and pulled himself up on his elbows. He smiled slowly. Though he wasn't wearing his glasses, he immediately knew who the mop of dark hair belonged to and he realized what the sensations were. 

"Oh...." was all Skinner could muster.

The sensation stopped, and Skinner found himself looking into a pair of beautiful hazel eyes. 

"Good morning," Walter Skinner said.

Fox Mulder grinned, stuck out his tongue and gave a long, lucious lick to Skinner's penis. "Good morning yourself," he said.

Skinner looked at the clock and groaned. "You're going to be late and you know better than to keep Scully waiting."

Mulder shook his head. "Me? No way, I'm a fast dresser. You should know that by now."

Skinner smiled. He did know that, in fact, in the last three months, he had learned many things about Agent Fox Mulder that he never would have suspected a year ago. For one thing, he never knew how Mulder felt about him. He'd always admired the young agent for....how long...one year...two...five? More than admired, Skinner used to fantasize about what Mulder's skin would feel like against his own, how it might feel to grip that cute behind of his. He'd seen Mulder once, getting out of the pool, wearing nothing but a pair of red Speedoes. Goddamn...Skinner had gotten a hard on just looking at him. But Skinner never would have made any kind of move, not certain of Mulder's sexuality. It was Fox who made the first move, after Skinner had come back from Seattle. Seattle, Skinner didn't even think about that place anymore. He just hoped that Frank Black was as happy as he was.

"I know that, I know lots of things about you, Fox," Skinner grinned. He quickly sat up, grabbed Mulder by the arms and pulled him close. Skinner crushed his mouth to Mulder's, at first Fox was going to make it difficult, by refusing to open his mouth, but then he relaxed, taking Skinner's tongue into his mouth and sucking on it, slowly. 

Skinner's hands roamed up and down the lean, hard muscles in Mulder's shoulders and arms as Mulder continued the assault on the older man's mouth. Skinner pulled Mulder on top of him so they were laying flat against each other, skin to skin, their erections rubbing gently together. Skinner broke the kiss to catch his breath. Mulder smiled. Damn, that man knew how to make him completely breathless. Skinner kissed Mulder's lips, cheeks, nose, then started on his earlobes, slowly moving to his middle ear, his lover's sensitive spot. 

"Oh...God...Walter..." Mulder groaned.

Now it was Skinner's turn to smile. But Mulder retaliated by grinding his hips against Skinner's, causing his boss to throw his head back and groan in ecstasy. Mulder grinned again, and Skinner shook his head. 

"You're bad," he said.

"Really...as bad as Frank Black was?" Mulder said.

Skinner groaned and closed his eyes. Damn Mulder had terrible timing. He always chose the worst moments to bring up Skinner's former lover. 

"Frank who?" Skinner said.

Mulder ran his hand along Skinner's balding head. "Oh, I don't know...old guy...profiler...went nuts and moved to Seattle..."

Skinner sighed. "Fox...you know how I feel about you."

Mulder nodded, then looked at the clock and kissed Skinner's lips gently. "You're right, it is getting late. I better hit the shower." Fox bounced off Skinnerand rushed out of the bedroom. 

'Shit,' Skinner thought. Sometimes, Mulder could be a little tease. What the hell did he want, a declaration of love before sex? He shut his eyes tightly and tried to will away the nagging erection that...that Mulder had caused. Skinner stretched. Strange, he never would have thought Mulder could be so insecure. Their conversations were always the same.

"I'm with you, not Frank Black," Skinner would say.

"But you still love him Walter...don't you...you've never said you love me."

"Yes I have."

"During sex doesn't count."

"Fox, I love you. Now what more do you want?"

"I don't know Walter. I guess I just wonder. I mean you were on the rebound when we got together. You told me Frank had met somebody else and you were hurt."

"Fox...please believe me, I love you. It's you now, and it's always going to be you. I told you before, I don't sleep around. I believe in monogamy...it's so easy for men to become promiscuous...I'm not like that Fox."

And then they'd share a hug, and Mulder would smile and say that he believed Skinner. But then about a week later, the same subject would come up. Skinner wondered what would make his young lover feel more secure. Maybe a key to his new apartment in Crystal City might change things. Skinner smiled. Too bad Mulder had to be away on a simple serial murder case. Simple to Skinner, but not to Mulder who was convinced that the young boys were being used for some kind of ritual experiments, by whom? Mulder wasn't certain.

Skinner heard the shower, he smiled. 'Didn't the president say something about conserving water?' he thought. Skinner got out of bed and walked into the bathroom, shaking his head. 'Fox's apartment is too damn small...no wonder he doesn't like to stay here.'

Skinner pulled back the shower stall door, without knocking. Mulder stood underneath the shower nozzle, hot water pulsating all over his head and face. SKinner wasn't certain he even knew he was there. 

"I hope that's you, Walter," Mulder said.

Skinner picked up a bar of soap along with a loofah sponge. "They say these things are supposed to get the dead skin off."

Mulder blinked and rubbed his eyes so he could see his lover clearly. "You know, it's hard as hell to wash your back with one of those."

"That was about as subtle as a sledge hammer. Turn around." Skinner rubbed soap on the sponge, and then slowly, carefully began to scrub Mulder's back.

"Hey, Walter, I think you're supposed to do it a little harder."

"Oh, really..." What a little tease. Skinnerr moved closer to Mulder, putting him almost under the shower nozzle, and scrubbed his back more vigorously. 

"Now, that feels better," Fox Mulder smiled.

This baithing excercise was making Skinner harder than he'd been earlier. His breathing was hot, ragged and very close to Mulder's ear. 

"Mmmmm," Mulder groaned.

Slowly, Skinner snuck his arm around Mulder's waist, pulling him closer as he continued washing his lover's back. Skinner moved his hips from side to side, along Mulder's buttocks, making certain the younger man felt his arousal.

"Ohhh....that's hard..." Mulder said.

"Isn't it?."

Mulder's breathing was also very ragged. He moved backwards until he was as close to Skinner as he could get. Skinner moved the sponge up to Mulder's neck, back down passed his back and stopped at his buttocks. Mulder tried to squirm, but Skinner had a good hold on him. 

As Skinner moved the sponge along Mulder's neck and shoulders, with his free hand, he carefully placed two fingers into the younger man's anus, stroking Mulder slowly. The warm water and the soap had lubricated the younger man very well. Skinner withrew his fingers, then moved his hand around and felt that Mulder was very erect. 

"What have we here?" Skinner whispered in Mulder's ear.

Mulder turned his head so he could look in Skinner's eyes. Skinner was taken aback by what he saw, Mulder's face was flushed, by the heat and by passion, his eyes were glazed, his bottom lip seemed fuller. 

"Walter...for God's sake....please...."

"Please what Fox..." Skinner's voice was soft, low.

Mulder was gasping for breath as some water went into his mouth. "Please...do it...Walter..." he knew that wasn't good enough, so he took a deep breath. "Please...fuck me..."

"Well...." Skinner put the sponge on the shelf and put one hand against the shower wall to brace himself. Then he slowly placed himself at Mulder's opening and wrapped his free hand around Mulder's penis. Skinner took a deep breath and stayed like that as he felt Mulder gasp and jerk in his arms. 

"Walter...what.......doing..." he managed to say.

"Just savoring the moment Fox...I'm so excited, I don't think I'll last too long."

Mulder tried to push his hips backward, but Skinner tightened his grip around his penis. "Walter...please....please..." he was almost sobbing.

"Fox, I love you...do you believe me...."

"Yes...yes...oh God YES WALTER."

Skinner sighed hard, it would not be the end of the discussion, but he didn't feel much like talking now. Skinner pushed himself slowly, carefully deep into Mulder. He shut his eyes tightly as his lover filled him up. Then, Skinner began a slow, rocking rhythm in and out, as he gently stroked Mulder's penis. Skinner's eyes were shut tightly, he was using all his self control not to grab Mulder's hips and slam hard into him. Soon, the rhythm quickened and the strokes became thrusts, Skinner grasped his lover's penis and moved his hand up and down the shaft roughly, squeezing the head, causing Mulder to gasp.

Skinner was biting his lip so hard, trying to control himself, he tasted blood. To hell with this, to hell with control. With a strangled moan, Skinner began pumping wildly in and out of the younger man, stroking Mulder's penis in the same frenzied rhythm as the water cascaded down on them and the stall was filled with steam. Mulder thrust forward into Skinner's hand, then backward into his penis, matching both of his movements.

The heat of the shower, the heat of their bodies, combined with Skinner's groans as he continued his frantic pace, pushed Mulder over the edge, he thrust once, twice against Skinner's hand before he came, spurting his hot release through Skinner's fingers and ontot the shower floor. As Mulder's buttock muscles contracted, caressing, pulling, stroking Skinner's penis vigorously, Skinner leaned forward and bit Mulder on the back of the neck as he came explosively, so much so that he nearly lost his balance, almost causing both of them to fall. 

Mulder slowly turned himself around and pulled Skinner to him, kissing his mouth. Skinner wrapped his arms around Mulder's waist receiving the kiss, holding him close. 

A half hour later, both men were clean, dry and dressed. Mulder in his business suit, Skinner in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, as he was going to try and unload some of the boxes the moving men left in his new apartment, yesterday.

"I still say you should have had them put your stuff away," Mulder said, tracing Skinner's jawline with his fingertip.

"If you want something done right Fox, you have to do it yourself."

He smiled seductively. "You are so right."

Skinner took a hold of Mulder's tie and pulled it, sighing. "I see my taste hasn't rubbed off on you yet."

"Oh, your taste *has* rubbed off on me, Walter," Mulder laughed.

"Agent Mulder, you have a dirty mind."

"Yes Sir, I think I do."

They kissed lightly on the lips, anything heavier would invite further sexual activity and Mulder really didn't want to keep Scully waiting. 

"Be careful," Skinner said.

"I always am Walter. I'll call you when I can. You be careful too, DC's a dangerous place," and Mulder's face darkened. Skinner knew he was *not* talking about common criminals. 

Skinner nodded. "I know what to do when I smell cigarette smoke."

Mulder placed his spare key in Skinner's hand.

"I'll give you one as soon as I have it made, Fox."

Mulder nodded. "I trust you," but Skinner wondered if he really did.

***************************************

Skinner smiled at the brand new second key he'd just gotten maintenance to make for him. As soon as Mulder returned, he'd take him out for a nice dinner, bring him to his new apartment and present him with the key. Skinner tried to think of some, cute romantic way to surprise his lover; maybe put it under the pillow?

As Skinner entered his apartment, cluttered with boxes and some furniture already placed, he sensed that someone was there. Immediately, he drew his gun, and that was when he heard a familiar chuckle that caused shivvers down his spine.

"Now, is that any way to treat an old friend?"

Skinner pointed the gun in the direction of the voice, a chair in a dark corner of the living room. Skinner turned on a dim lamp and the figure rose and slowly walked over to the light. He wore jeans and boots, a brown leather jacket and a white tee shirt, on his head was a black baseball cap. Skinner looked up at the pair of green eyes, framed in long, dark eyelashes.

"You're no friend of mine, Krycek."

Alex Krycek smiled and shook his head, then he removed his cap and tossed it on the chair. Skinner saw that the younger man's hair was short, a miliary buzz cut. Krycek sighed. "Aren't you going to ask me to take my jacket off?"

"Why? You're not staying."

Krycek shrugged. "You may want me to."

"What the hell do you want?" 

"You could start by putting down the gun. If I wanted to kill you, I would've before you even saw me."

Skinner knew Krycek was right. The younger man's eyes were wide, he looked scared underneath all that bravado. He put the gun back in his waist holster.

"I thought you were dead."

"Me too. This is a nice place, Wally," Krycek smiled seductively at him. Skinner looked the man over, damn, even dirty, he was as beautiful as ever. Skinner wondered when was the last time Krycek had taken a bath. Wally? Why the hell was he calling him that?

"Do you have a VCR, Wally?"

Skinner nodded, he'd set it up two nights ago. "There," he pointed to a spot in the opposite corner.

Krycek pulled something out of his jacket pocket, then walked to the TV and VCR, which meant his back was to Skinner, but the older man didn't move. Krycek turned on the TV, then inserted the tape. "I forwarded it to the middle of the action, didn't want to bore you with all the foreplay."

Krycek pressed the "play" button and Skinner found himself stareing at a familiar room, but he coudln't remember where...His attention was distracted by a loud groan and focused on the two figures on the large bed. Alex Krycek lay, naked, face down on the bed, hands gripping the bedcovers, there was a man on top of Krycek, an older man pumping furiously into the younger man's anus, groaning incoheirently, one hand was around Krycek's waist, the other gripped the headboard. Skinner's eyes widened, as he realized that the older man....was himself.

Skinner felt his entire body go limp, he used every ounce of control to keep himself from falling against the wall. He stared at Krycek in disbelief.

"You know, that Rodney King case taught me a lot...you never know when you might need a videocamera," Krycek grinned.

Skinner recovered himself and quickly rushed to the VCR. Krycek was faster and punched Skinner hard in the stomach, causing the older man to double over. "Do that again and I'll blow your head off. Besides, what makes you think this is the only one?"

"You fucking bastard!!!"

"Why're you yelling at me, Wally. I didn't do anything, that is you on there!"

Skinner stood up slowly and stared into those hard green eyes. Damn Krycek for being right; he looked again at the screen, heard his groans escalate, as well as Krycek's.

"Kind of sexy, huh?" Krycek said, smiling.

Skinner looked down at the buldge in Krycek's pants, then realized he was getting hard, just looking at the beautiful young man, and was glad he wore loose fitting pants so Krycek couldn't see his condition. Krycek was still smiling...damn him for being so beautiful and damn that night...a night that Skinner thought he'd never have to remember.

Skinner had just arrived in Washington DC, from Seattle. The case he was supervising was over, as well as his relationship with Frank Black. Frank was very happy with his new, younger lover a lithe and handsome man named James Horn. Skinner had gone to a bar he'd never been to before, a dark and dingy place in Georgetown, where the drinks didn't have pretty names and were served straight up if you requested it. Skinner took his tie off, so as not to arouse too much suspicion. 

Skinner was on his fourth drink, when he felt a presence beside him. He turned his head and saw Alex Krycek. Skinner thought he was having some kind of hallucination and had to blink a few times before he was certain. Krycek was wearing jeans, a black tee shirt and a denhim jacket. 

"What's a nice guy like you doing in a dive like this?" Krycek said.

Skinner didn't respond, he just took another swig of his drink. 

"You look like you've lost your best friend."

"Get the fuck away from me..." Skinner slurred.

Krycek laughed. "You're fucking drunk. Our cigarette smoking friend must have fucked you good. I can relate." Krycek signaled the bartender, who placed a beer in front of him and another scotch in front of Skinner who frrowned at the drink.

"Consider it a peace offering, besides, you make a move towards me, they're about ten guys who'll kick the shit out of you. This is my crowd, Skinner."

Skinner looked around the bar and saw about ten rough looking men in jeans and camoflauge jackets, sitting at a round table with five very young looking women. He concluded that Krycek was probably right. He downed the drink and stood up, slamming a fifty dollar bill on the bar. As Skinner staggered toward the door, Krycek grabbed his arm. 

"I hope you're not thinking of driving yourself home Wally. A drunk assistant director of the FBI, driving a car isn't a pretty sight, especially if you hit someone."

"Then I'll call a cab."

Krycek reached over into Skinner's jacket pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "I'll drive you to my place, it's closer."

All Skinner could do was lean against the younger man's body, that's when he smelled the aftershave; it smelled good, like fresh pine and Skinner realized he was aroused. 

The drive to Krycek's apartment was quick, it seemed like they were there in a second. Krycek led him up the stairs and the next thing Skinner remembered, they were in a large, sparsely furnished room. The only furniture he saw was a dresser and a king sized bed. Skinner's erection was nearly painful now. He stared at Krycek, who was smiling at him. Damn, even when Krycek was working for him, he hadn't noticed how utterly beautiful he was, deep, green espressive eyes and long, thick black eyelashes.

The time for being submissive was over, this man was not Frank Black. Skinner grabbed Krycek and pinned his body against the wall. He covered the younger man's mouth with his own, sucking hard on Krycek's tongue. Krycek wrapped his arms around Skinner's neck and returned the kiss. "I've always wanted you, Wally..." Krycek whispered.

They hurriedly tore their clothes from their own and each other's bodies and tumbled on the bed. Skinner moved on top of Krycek, grining his erection against the younger man's. Krycek wrapped his legs around Skinner's waist as they drove themselves into a frenzy. Skinner felt himself coming and Krycek managed to snake away from him.

"Alex..." Skinner said through his teeth.

Krycek opened the top drawer of a night table and pulled out a condom and some lubricant, he winked at Skinner and handed it to him. Skinner tore them from Krycek's hands, as Krycek licked his lips with his tongue and turned on his stomach. Skinner quickly prepared his penis as well as Krycek's opening. No words were spoken, Skinner didn't have anything to say to Krycek, he just desperately wanted to fuck him. As soon as they were both lubricated properly, Skinner rolled the condom over his erection and positioned himself over Krycek.

Krycek looked over his shoudler. "Fuck me Wally....fuck me..."

Skinner grit his teeth and plunged into Krycek's body. The younger man cried out, from pain or pleasure, Skinner didn't know, and he didn't care. He reached around Krycek's waist, grasped the man's erection and pumped it in time to his thrusts. 

Within seconds, the rhythm increased in intensity and speed. Skinner drove hard, delivering thrust after powerful thrust inside Krycek, as he continued to squeeze and pump Krycek's penis. Skinner heard Krycek's strangled scream as he came hard in his hand, and as Krycek's buttock muscles throbbed against Skinner's penis, the older man lost control and he came, collapsing against Krycek's back. 

After that, Skinner didn't remember much else. He remembered waking up, next to Krycek sometime the next day, confused as to why they both were naked. Skinner quickly dressed and left the apartment, glad that his car keys were in his jacket pocket. A few weeks later, Fox Mulder approached him in his office and Skinner had never given a thought to that night with Krycek.

The tape had finished. Krycek took it from the VCR and placed it back in his jacket pocket. "I wonder what our smoking friend would think of this," Krycek sighed.

Skinner blinked and found himself staring into Krycek's eyes again. Cancer Man. He'd make that tape public knowledge which would mean...Mulder would see it...God...losing Mulder was a hundred times worse than losing his career. 

"What the hell do you want, Krycek?"

Krycek grinned. "Did I say I wanted something? You're way ahead of me Wally. I don't want anything...now. But later...who knows? I just wanted to show this to you...let you stew over it for awhile. Call it a public service."

So, Krycek didn't want anything, but Skinner knew better. Krycek wanted to show Skinner that he had something on him, and that he could find him.

"Get the fuck out of here!" Skinner said.

Krycek shrugged. "Surprised you don't want a repeat performance, Wally...but I guess that'll come later." Krycek walked over to Skinner and stood, very close to him. Skinner could smell that same aftershave and tried desperately to keep his breathing regulated and the only way he could do that was to keep his eyes away from Krycek.

"Face it Wally...you want it...you need it...I'll see you later.." 

When Skinner looked again, Krycek was gone. Skinner slammed and locked the door behind him, knowing that was useless, rats could find the smallest of holes to crawl into.

***************************************

Walter Skinner nearly pulled his lover in the apartment, he looked so beautiful, standing out in the hall. Though it was in the middle of the night, Skinner wasn't too upset that it was Mulder who woke him up.

Mulder said something about needing a safe house, when Skinner asked for whom, Mulder pulled a handcuffed Alex Krycek into view. Immeidately, Skinner's blood began to boil. Shit, had Krycek showed Mulder the tape. Skinner grabbed the handcuffed man and said something about him being quite safe here. Skinner punched Krycek hard in the stomach, causing the younger man to double over, then asked Mulder for the keys. When Mulder gave them to him, he dragged Krycek onto the balcony and had to control his impulse to throw him off. No telling where that tape was, or who had it, and if something happened to Krycek, it *could* become public knowledge.

Skinner handcuffed Krycek to the railing and Krycek shouted that Skinner couldn't do that, he'd freeze to death.

"Think warm thoughts," Skinner said, knowing just what kind of thoughts Krycek might think. 

Skinner went back inside the apartment and faced Mulder. Mulder looked him up and down and smiled. "Nice jeans...sorry you didn't have time to put on a shirt." Skinner sighed, he hadn't seen the tape. 

Skinner smiled. "Why don't you go upstairs. I'll be up soon."

Mulder frowned. "I know it's hard, but try not to kill him."

"Sure." Mulder squeezed his hand. Skinner watched him go upstairs, then he turned around and went back out on the balcony, where Krycek was crouched on the floor, collar turned upward as he tried to keep himself warm. Skinner knelt down. 

"Where the fuck's the tape, Krycek."

Krycek's turned the full force of his green eyes and dark eye lashes onto Skinner. "Why don't you turn me loose Wally, and I'll get it for you."

Damn. Even with everything to lose, Krycek was still trying to be cute...and succeeding. "Fuck you, you bastard," Skinner said between his teeth.

"Yeah, you know you want to, Wally. Why don't you face it...come down here and let me suck you off." Krycek whispered softly, his lips touched Skinner's cheek. 

Skinner quickly drew back and rose. Krycek grinned, seeing his erection. "I see I still have the same effect on you, don't I?"

Skinner didn't want to dignify that with an answer. "Pleasant dreams, Alex." He went back into the apartment, and was startled to see Mulder standing there. Shit, he hoped he hadn't overheard the conversation. Mulder was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a smile. 

"Just wanted to make sure you didn't kill him. We may need him later," Mulder said.

Skinner wanted to get Mulder upstairs. He was horny and he didn't want to be anywhere near Krycek. "No, he's safe and sound."

"Good," Mulder slipped his arms around Skinner's waist and pulled him close. Feeling Skinner stiffen, Mulder frowned. "What's the matter?"

Skinner knew he had to act natural, he felt guilty that Alex Krycek excited him. "Nothing." He pulled Mulder's face down and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Now, let's get you upstairs," Mulder grinned, looking down at his boss's erection, "and not a moment too soon."

"Good idea," Skinner put his arm around Mulder and they headed up the stairs.

Skinner thought he'd completely closed the curtains to the balcony, but there was a small patch that was open, it was just wide enough for Alex Krycek to see the activity in the living room. He saw Mulder put his arms around Skinner's waist, and saw Skinner kiss Mulder's lips. Krycek pulled against his bonds, both in anger and in frustration. So, that's why Skinner was being such a hard ass to him, wanted to show off in front of his new bitch. Puny little Fox Mulder of all people, didn't even know he liked men...well, Krycek always suspected, Mulder looked like he'd screw a horse if he could. Krycek reached inside his jeans with his free hand and stroked his building erection as he thought about Skinner, then about Fox Mulder. Puny? Not really, he remembered the time he'd seen Mulder when he was coming out of the swimming pool, wearing nothing but red Speedos and a pair of goggles. Those Speedos didn't leave a lot to the imaginaton either, Krycek grinned.

Krycek then realized that Skinner had quite another reason for wanting the tape; wouldn't want the bitch to see it. Krycek looked up, to where he thought Skinner's bedroom might be, "I wonder which one's a top and which is a bottom?" he said to himself. He remembered how he felt when Skinner fucked him, filling him up, grunting, making him come too. Skinner didn't love him, but he wanted him, he still wanted him. Krycek was certain that Skinner was fucking Mulder, but it was him, Alex Krycek he was imagining being with. Then, Krycek wondered what it would be like to fuck Mulder, they were about the same age, same height, similar build, though Krycek knew his body could take a lot more than Mulder's. Could Mulder have survived the silo? Mulder was probably a good kisser, he had a sexy, lower lip, perfect for kissing and sucking. Krycek leaned against the railing and stopped stroking himself. He didn't want to come all over himself in the cold. Before this thing was over, he was going to find out just what Skinner saw in old "Spooky" 

***********************************

"Don't touch me again," Alex Krycek said, glaring at Mulder.

Fox Mulder had dragged Alex Krycek from Virginia to New York, and then to Russia, where they'd been captured and placed in a small, stinking cell, and where Krycek knew they'd be tortured. He just told Mulder that he was going to need him in there, after all, *he* spoke Russian, Mulder didn't. 

Krycek walked over to the window and grasped the bars that despite his will, didn't move. Mulder glared at him. 

"You're lucky I didn't kill you Krycek, after what you've done to me."

Krycek turned around and Mulder braced himself for another attack, but Krycek just smiled. "After what you've done to me, I should get myself out and leave you here Fox," he chuckled. "I wonder how long it would take Wally to find your body."

Mulder stared at Krycek, who laughed. "I guess you don't call him that...what do you call him when he's fucking you...Walter baby..."

Mulder looked down and remembered when Krycek was handcuffed to the balcony and he'd come downstairs and kissed Skinner. 

Krycek laughed louder. "I didn't call him Wally either, he was so fucking good, I could barely speak."

"What the hell are you..." Mulder fought the impulse to punch Krycek in the mouth. He needed him and Krycek knew it, he was just messing with him. 

Krycek walked closer to Mulder. "Let's just say that Wally and I are old friends....and if you're dead, who knows what might happen...I kind of liked that apartment in Crystal City."

Mulder turned his back on Krycek. "I'm not listening to you, Krycek."

Now Krycek stood even closer to Mulder, whispering in his ear. "I love a man with a hairy chest, feels so good against my back...or are you on top, Foxy?"

Mulder shut his eyes tightly, his blood was slowly boiling. "Tell me, Foxy, what do you think of that scar underneath his left nipple?"

"Shut up Krycek...just shut up..." Mulder whispered. 

Krycek leaned over so his mouth touched Mulder's lips. "When Wally comes...does he still make that wonderful grunting noise?"

Mulder spun around and slammed Krycek against the wall. He tried to punch him, but the younger man was quicker, and slammed his fist hard into Mulder's gut. Krycek then pushed Mulder against the opposite wall, pinning him by the shoulders and staring deep into his eyes. 

"Does that make you feel good Foxy?" Krycek was so close, Mulder could smell his deep, musky scent and he turned his head so he didn't have to look at him. Krycek turned Mulder's head, so he was again facing him, and then kissed him, hard on the lips. Mulder tried to push Krycek away, but Krycek was more determined, as he tried to force Mulder's mouth open. Mulder felt his former partner's tongue on his lips, felt his breath on his face and neck as he continued to struggle.

"Oh...Foxy...you're turning me on," Krycek began to grind his hips against Mulder's groin. Mulder groaned and felt his body responding to Krycek's touch. Mulder slowly opened his mouth and received Krycek's kiss, as he ground his hips against the younger man's erection.

Krycek's hands moved down to Mulder's behind, pushing him closer, as Krycek ground harder. Mulder gasped for breath and groaned. "Damn you Krycek...." he gasped. 

"Yeah...damn me, Mulder."

Mulder looked into Krycek's eyes, they were both evil and beautiful at the same time. He grabbed the back of Krycek's head and kissed him hard, biting the other man's lips. Krycek increased his grip of Mulder's behind, until Mulder thought he'd die right there if he didn't stop the assult, the torture, Mulder felt was worse than anything the Russians could think up. 

Mulder pulled his mouth off Krycek's, grabbed him by the shoulders and moved quickly around so he was standing behind Krycek, then he pushed Krycek into the wall. Mulder pulled Krycek's tee shirt over his head and threw it to the floor, then he pushed his jeans and boxers down to his ankles. Krycek didn't put up any resistance, he stood, hands against the wall, waiting. Mulder took off his sweater, throwing it into the corner, where it landed near Krycek's tee shirt and pulled down his own briefs and jeans. Mulder put his hands on Krycek's slim waist and pulled him closer. The only sound was the sound of their breathing. Somewhere deep inside Mulder was a voice screaming: "What the fuck are you doing...you hate this man...." The voice was right, Mulder wanted to kill Krycek, he wanted to fuck him, he hated him, he loved him? 

Mulder spit on his hands and used it to lubricate Krycek's opening. It wasn't much but it would have to do, there was no turning back. Mulder roughly entered Krycek, pushing himself deeper and deeper until he was all the way inside. Krycek's body tensed for a moment, he threw his head back and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. Mulder didn't give a shit if he was hurting him, this was *his* pleasure he was taking. Then, Krycek's body relaxed and Mulder started a jagged rhythm; withdrawing half way, then slamming fiercely into Krycek so deep that his testicles were against Krycek's buttocks. 

In less than a minute, the rhythm increased in both speed and intensity. Mulder, grunting with each thrust, holding Krycek's waist firmly. Krycek knowing Mulder didn't care if he got off or not, began to stroke himself in time to Mulder's thrusts. Mulder shut his eyes and told himself that he wouldn't come inside Krycek's body, he wasn't going to give him that satisfaction, when he was ready to come, he'd pull out and shoot all over his former partner's back. Mulder smiled thinking of Krycek with a wet spot all over his back. 

Krycek's strokes became harder until he felt his testicles tightening, he threw his head back. "Oh God..." he cried and came, shooting against the wall. Fox felt Krycek's anal muscles ripple and jerk his penis so violently, that he was unable to pull out in time and came hard, inside Krycek's body. Mulder cried out and collapsed against Krycek so hard, that both men fell to the floor, landing like a couple of spoons. 

Krycek pushed himself away from Mulder, Mulder groaned, feeling his body abandoned. When he looked up, Krycek was pulling up his pants and grinning at Mulder.

"Shit Foxy, now I know why Wally loves you so much."

Krycek put his tee shirt on and threw Mulder his sweater. Mulder put his sweater over his head, then stood as he pulled his pants back up but was unable to speak. He was too angry, too ashamed, and too satisfied. He had just fucked Krycek, or had Krycek fucked him? 

Kyrcek pulled Mulder in an embrace and kissed his lips. "You were beautiful Foxy."

"Stop calling me that....Alex..." Mulder's eyes were on the floor.

Krycek smiled and patted Mulder on the shoulder. "You're good...more than good...that was one hell of a performance....so good that I'm going to give you something for it."

"I don't want anything of yours, Krycek," Mulder still couldn't look at him.

Krycek reached inside the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a key, he held it in front of Mulder's face. Mulder looked at it. It was a key, with a tag number 1169 attached to it. 

"What the hell's that, the digital tape?"

Krycek laughed out loud. "You are so funny Fox. This tape is another...performance...only this one stars your boss."

Now, Mulder met Krycek's eyes. "And me, of course," Krycek grinned, "1169, Union Station."

Mulder shook his head. "I don't want it."

"Oh come on Foxy, your curiosity is killing you, isn't it? Don't you want to see if it's true, if I really did fuck Skinner?"

Mulder glared at him, Krycek continued, "I mean, you already think I did, but you really can't be sure unless you see it on videotape." When Mulder didn't take the key from Krycek, he threw it to the floor and walked back to the window, placing his hands again on the bars.

Mulder down at the key, then he looked up at Krycek. He wanted to believe that Krycek lied to him, played on his emotions, but his curiosity gnawed at him. Could Krycek be telling the truth, for once? A videotape.... Mulder closed his eyes and when he opened them, the key was still there. He sighed long and hard, then reached down, picked up the key and put it in his jeans pocket.

***************************************

One day after he'd spoken at the Senate, Select Subcommitte hearings, two days after returning from Terma, Fox Mudler found himself heading for Union Station, the key inside his raincoat pocket. Mulder hadn't spoken to Skinner since returning from Terma. He remembered when he walked into the hearings, minutes after Mulder himself walked in, Mulder wanted to stand up and openly embrace his lover, but found that he couldn't, there were too many things on his mind. What happened in the prison, and the key inside his coat pocket. Mulder knew Skinner had been worried, and when Skinner leaned over and asked if he was alright, Mulder just nodded and said that he and Scully had a lot of work to do. 

"Krycek?" Skinner asked.

"I don't know. Probably dead," Mulder responded.

As he made his way to the station, Mulder realized that Krycek gave him the key because he figured that he'd be dead either from the back breaking "mining" work, or from the tests. Goddamn Krycek for double crossing him again, Mulder shook his head, Poor bastard was probably dead.

Mulder walked inside the station and made his way toward the lockers. His eyes scanned every number, until he found the one he was looking for 1169, how appropriate, Mulder thought. Mulder put the key inside the lock and held his breath. Maybe Krycek gave him the wrong station, or maybe he meant Union Station in Philidalphia. The key turned and opened and Mulder pulled out a videotape, nothing was written on it, it was just a normal videotape. 

Mulder placed it inside his jacket pocket and headed out the station. As he walked, he passed several garbage cans. He had an impulse to take the thing out of his pocket and throw it away, but found himself paralyzed every time he passed a garbage can. Before Mulder knew it, he was outside and heading home.

As soon as he got inside his apartment, he saw that he had two messages on his answering machine. The first was from Scully, who thanked him again for comming through at the hearings.

"You're welcome, Scully," Mulder said to himself, then he waited for the second message.

"Fox," it was Skinner's voice, "Please call me, I need to speak with you...You really gave me a scare...I'm glad you're safe."

Mulder took off his coat and threw it on the sofa. Then he turned on the television, placed the tape inside the VCR and held his breath.

The first thing Mulder saw was a bedroom, the camera must have been inside a bookcase or something, because it looked down onto the bed. He heard voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Then, Krycek walked into the room, he was talking to someone. Seconds later, Mulder saw who that someone was. Walter Skinner. Skinner looked as though he could have been drunk. He took Krycek's hand and pulled him close, crushing his mouth on Krycek's. Mulder looked away, feeling anger, but also shame, as he'd done the same thing to his former partner. Mulder sat on a chair, unable to move, as he watched the two men undress, Krycek lying face down on the bed, Skinner kissing the younger man's neck and back. Then, he saw Krycek hand Skinner a condom and some lubricant. Mulder rubbed his eyes, but looked up in time to see Skinner mount Krycek and begin to move in and out of him. 

Mulder looked around the room for the remote control, where the fuck was it? He heard male sounds of passion and tried to put his hands over his ears to drown it out, but he kept hearing them. Finally, he spotted the remote control and slammed his finger on the "power" button. Mulder stared at the now blank screen and put his hands over his eyes. How could Skinner....with him...Krycek....Mulder felt the tears come and he raised his head. Shit how could *he* have done that...with Krycek...What the hell did the man have, some kind of strange magnetism? Mulder bit his lip in frustration, as he realized that he'd become very aroused by the tape. He had a small impulse to push the play button and continue watching.

Mulder looked at the clock, it was nine. He picked up the phone and frantically punched his lover's number. 

"Yes," Skinner's voice said after three rings.

"It's me Walter...I need to see you..."

"Fox, are you alright..."

Mulder shut his eyes to stop the tears. "I need to see you, NOW!"

"Alright Fox, come over now." Skinner hung up the phone. 

Mulder put his head in his hands and decided it was useless to try and stop the tears, so he let them flow. Goddamn, he knew it was too good to be true. Skinner was a man of the world, he'd known people, done things, he had a life. What the hell could have made him, Fox Mulder think that a man like that could be faithful to someone like him; "Spooky" Mulder, the laughingstock of the FBI, a man who thought his sister was abducted by aliens. Shit, Mulder bet Skinner and Krycek had a laugh about him. 

When the tears finally stopped, Mulder rose and took the tape out the VCR. He put on his coat again and placed the tape inside, then took a deep breath and left his apartment.

Mulder strode inside the duplex, as soon as Skinner opened the door. Skinner tried to put his arms around his lover, but Mulder eluded his embrace. He took the videotape from his pocket and threw it on Skinner's sofa. Skinner looked at it, then looked up at Mulder in horror.

"You know what this is," Mulder said.

Skinner sighed. Slowly, he looked up at Mulder and nodded. 

Mulder sat down heavily in an easy chair, he hadn't taken off his coat. He sighed heavily. 

"Fox, I can explain..."

"Explain? What? Are you going to say that isn't you on the tape?"

"No, because that would be a lie. Fox...that happened....right after I came back from Seattle...after Frank and I...after I realized it was over between us. I was upset, I went into this dive, I had a few drinks and...."

"...And there he was, Alex Krycek. Walter...shit, Alex Krycek...He tried to kill you...he killed my father...Scully's sister....he's a liar and a killer...and you fucked him!"

Skinner took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I wish I could say that he drugged me or something, but that's not what happened...I don't know why it happened Fox, but..." Skinner's breathing had become ragged. "Jesus Fox, I was with Frank Black for five years...I never thought it would be over between us...I was upset and Krycek was there and....I lost all fucking control...but Fox, this was before you told me how you felt about me...before I realized what I felt about you. After it happened, I felt so ashamed...I got out of there fast." Walter shook his head. " I never wanted you to know, and then...he came here...and showed me the tape...said he wanted something...I was going to tell you about it...but then...you brought him over here...then you two left for Russia..."

Mulder chucled sadly. "Now I know why Krycek didn't want to come here...and why you punched him out and put him on the balcony..." 

"I wanted to punish that little rat..."

Mulder put his hands over his eyes and again started to sob. "Krycek...goddamn Krycek...."

Skinner looked at his lover, then looked at the tape and frowned. "Mulder...how did you get...why do you have..."

Mulder took out a handkerckief from his jacket pocket, wiped his eyes and blew his nose. "He must've seen us together when he was on the balcony...when we were in that prison...he...he said some things about you...personal things..."

"What did you do Fox, beat the shit out of him to get it?"

Mulder looked at Skinner and realized that he too had a confession to make. "No..." Fox looked at the floor.

Skinner sighed. "Oh my God...he raped you..."

Mulder shook his head. "No...I fucked him...I fucked him so good he gave me the key to the locker where the tape was...as a reward..." He laughed out loud, a sad, broken laugh. "Here I am pissed at you for fucking Krycek and...I do the same thing...he made me so mad...I wanted to hurt him...but I only wound up hurting myself." When Mulder looked up at Skinner, he saw that the older man was looking away. He rose and threw his arms around his lover.

"Walter...I'm sorry...I'm sorry...You did it because you were hurt..." Mulder buried his head against Skinner's chest.

Slowly, Skinner raised his hand and gently stroked Mulder's hair. "So did you," he said.

The two men held each other for awhile; neither one mentioning how much they'd enjoyed their "adventure" with Alex Krycek, then Mulder slowly moved away. He didn't know if Skinner wanted him to stay after what he'd just told him. 

"I think I better go."

Skinner grabbed Mulder's hand and looked into his hazel eyes. "Fox Mulder...I need to say something. I love you, very much. Please forgive me for what I did."

Mulder's mouth dropped open. "Forgive you? You didn't do anything wrong. I was the one who was unfaithful..."

Skinner shook his head. "It doesn't matter. But something does matter, Fox. This isn't a safe place, Krycek found me here, Cancer Man knows I live here, so..." He reached inside the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a key. Mulder held his breath, 'Jesus, not another locker,' he thought.

"What's that?" Mulder said.

"This is a key to a townhouse in Georgetown, the owner is Michael Evans...AKA Walter Skinner; where Mr. Evans entertains the love of his life, Fox Mulder, so it's appropriate for Mr. Mulder to have his own key. This is our place Fox, no Krycek, no cigeratte smoking man, no senators...just you and me...Will you take this key, Fox?"

Mulder stared at the key, stunned, so stunned he couldn't move. "This is what you wanted to talk to me about," he managed to say.

Skinner nodded. Mulder sighed and took the key out of the older man's hand. Skinner pulled Mulder in an embrace and the two men shared a warm kiss. 

When they broke from their kiss, Mulder smiled at his lover. "I love you, Walter," he whispered, "thank you."

"Thank you Fox."

"For what?"

"For understanding."

Alex Krycek leaned back in the chair and stared out at the streets of St. Petersburg. He sighed heavily and was glad that Fox Mulder had the balls to retreive the tape. Well, he had the balls to get his ass back to the USA in one piece, but to get that tape took guts. Krycek was certain Mulder watched it, and, from what his sources told him, it hadn't put a damper on his relationship with Walter Skinner, in fact, the two men had quite a nice little love nest in Georgetown. 

Krycek sighed. He wasn't the same man he was, when he and Mulder shared that prison cell in Tunguska, many things had changed. One thing that hadn't changed were Krycek's feelings for Skinner...and Mulder. Maybe, when the time was right, he'd come back to the good old USA, and maybe he'd pay a visit to the home of Mr. Michael Evans and his lovely companion; perhaps he could present them with the best bottle of Russian vodka he could find.

Krycek smiled and crossed his legs. Maybe, he'd get to be on top. The possibilities were endless.

THE END

Little Eva   
12/29/96


End file.
